Carrefour
by thegirlwhoknew
Summary: This is a story of many Harry Potter characters in the Hunger Games, five years after Katniss' games, where Cato won. I would love it if you could read and review! Thanks!
1. Chapter 1

The reapings

Imagine. The aftermath of Cato winning the games. And that all the Harry potter characters are tributes.

Chapter 1

12: Angelina's hands shook as she did up her usual braids, fumbling with her numb, cold fingers. Usually her fingers obeyed her quickly and deftly, but this morning her body had a mind of its own. This morning was the reaping.

She was tall, with dark hair and skin, her hair always in multiple braids, out of her way.

Angelina was scared, but also kind of relieved that today was the last time she had to go through the fear. This year she was 18, and the last year she was in the draw for the hunger games. However, her family was poor, like most families in district 12, and one of the ways for them to get by was for Angelina - an only child - to get tesserae. Her name was in the glass bowl 47 times. Scary.

Angelina shook herself, and splashed water on her face. No time to be thinking like that. She had to make herself presentable.

* * *

Oliver lowered himself down to the table with a groan, rubbing his eyes. He tipped himself a bowl of cereal and picked up his tarnished cutlery, feeling faintly guilty. He knew it was old, but he had cutlery all the same. Something that couldn't be said for most families in district 12.

He was slight, despite all the extra food he got, and blond, with a freckled face. He enjoyed exercise, often going for runs.

Oliver guessed his father was still in bed, preparing for his speech as mayor. So was his sister, Madge. She was over 18, out of the draw for the hunger games. His mother had died two years ago, after living a life of constant pain.

Oliver dressed casually, but neatly, knowing that there was barely any chance of him going to the Capitol. He was 17. Although, his mum's family had been rich, and her sister had died in the games. He couldn't take his safety for granted.

* * *

Angelina shivered as she stood in the crowd, the roped off section for the 18 year old girls. She looked around at the other girls, but they all stared tensely straight ahead at the stage, unwilling to talk. She glanced at the adults, unable to spot her parents.

Suddenly a hush fell over the whole area. Clip clop went an echo of high heels walking across the stage. The Capitol woman - what was her name again? Effie Trinket. She began to talk in her stupid accent, welcoming everyone there. As if they wanted to be there.

Angelina stopped listening, mind on other matters. She just kept telling herself - this is the last time. Then you're out of the possibility. Forever.

Before she knew it, Effie was making her way to the first glass bowl, dipping a claw inside and mixing up the contents. Angelina watched without realizing she was holding her breath. Finally, Effie selected a slip and dramatically pulled it out of the bowl. She cleared her throat in a high pitched cough.

"The female tribute is ... Angelina Johnson!"

Angelina froze. This wasn't happening, it was a bad dream. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders and headed slowly up to the stage. The crowd parted, giving her sympathetic glances, but no eye contact. She thought she heard a scream, but she wasn't sure what was real or not.

Angelina looked up for the first time, and saw her own face filling the screen, realizing for the first time how terrified she was. She stood straight on the stage, looking out at the sea of faces. Of the children, the girls faces were more relaxed, but the boys still tense. She kept her face blank, unregistering shock. She was resigned to her fate, just hoping that her death would be quick.

* * *

Oliver gulped. The girl was chosen already, just the boys to go. He wished it was over already. He looked at his father on the stage, but he was looking at the girl tribute with pity. Her face was masked from emotions, but every now and then, a little fear broke through the net.

He saw, all too soon, the Capitol woman crossing the stage to the boys glass bowl.

Effie smiled before entering her hand into the swirl of slips, fingers closing on one. Oliver closed his eyes, fingers crossed.

"And now our brave male tribute - Oliver Wood!"

Oliver stood still, looking up at the stage, wondering why his father had just put his hands to his mouth and gasped loudly.

Then he realized what Effie had said. Effie guided him professionally up to the stage before realizing where he was.

"How unexpected!" she piped up with her silly clipped vowels. "The mayor's own son!"

Oliver looked out in the crowd until he saw his beloved sister, Madge, crying. He remembered with a shock that she had lost her friend to the hunger games as well. Katniss. That had been her name. And she had nearly won, too. She and her district partner - Peeta - had been the last ones left except for a District Two boy. But in the end, Cato had killed both of them.

Oliver stood straighter and looked up. He would do it for Madge, he vowed. So she never lost another loved one. It would destroy her if he died too.

* * *

District 11

Hannah Abbot woke up as soon as the sun rose, used to having to get up for the harvest. Luckily, today, she didn't have to work at all. Unfortunately, it was also the day of the reaping.

Hannah had long, brown hair, and she was medium height.

Although District 11 was tough and most people were poor, the one good thing was that there were so many people. District 11 was easily the biggest district of them all. It meant that it was easy to blend in with the crowd. The best thing, however, was the reaping. It meant there was much less of a chance of getting reaped. There were two preliminary drawings, with all the children seen on TV having been drawn twice already, what the Capitol and rest of Panem seeing being the final.

Hannah was 15, and for the first time in her life, she had gone through both the preliminary drawings. Never before had she gone through one, so this time, she was quite nervous to have to actually go to the square on main reaping day.

Hannah's family, consisting of a mum and 3 brothers, didn't have a water tap, so she went to the her little town sections water fountain to wash her face with the brownish water. At the fountain, she bumped into her friend Dean. "See you at the square." he said softly, with a small smile. Hannah remembered with a jolt that he had gone through both drawings as well.

* * *

Dean lived in the children's home. He'd only been there a couple of years, since his grandmother died. His parents had died when he was little, leaving only her to look after him. Now he was 18.

He looked almost exactly like his older brother, who had died about five years ago.

It was a hard life. He had to work harder than most other kids, and even then, there were frequent beatings.

He didn't have many friends. Other kids tended to avoid the people from the children's home.

Also, the home was far away from where he used to live, so he didn't see his old friends that often.

He had made friends with one girl though, Hannah. He wasn't interested in her in a romantic way, he just liked her as a friend.

This morning, his mind was on different things. He had gone through both preliminary drawings. He knew it was only a small chance that he'd be reaped but he also knew it was possible.

The thought of this brought him pain, remembering how his beloved brother was taken, never to return again.

His grandmother had died 2 years after Thresh's death, leaving Dean on his own.

* * *

Hannah filed into the square along with the other couple of hundred unlucky girls. Soon she arrived at the girls 15 year old section, looking around at the other girls.

She watched President Snow's message with distaste, but didn't turn away.

The mayor's speech went past quickly and boringly.

Their escort, Dolores, beamed around at all the grim faces, seemingly not noticing.

She welcomed them all and finished with the usual, "And may the odds be ever in your favour!"

She gave another sickening smile before swooping over to the glass bowl containing the female names.

Hannah's heart began to pump, faster and faster. Suddenly the escort pulled out the name with a flourish and cleared her throat, "Hem, hem!", before reading clearly:

"Hannah Abbot!"

Hannah's heart stopped.

She walked to the stage in a daze, stumbling up the steps. She looked out into the crowd, unable to find any familiar faces.

Her stomach clenched as she held back the urge to scream.

* * *

Dean watched with horror as Hannah's name was called. His one and only friend, and she was going to the Capitol.

He wished he could go to her, comfort her, but he would most likely be shot down by Peacekeepers if he moved out of position.

"Well, isn't it an honour to be able to compete and become famous for this brave young lady!" piped Dolores happily.

Nobody made a noise. Just stared at her in hatred.

The escort looked around, waiting for a response, maybe assent, then smiled again.

"Okay then, now we'll move on to our male tribute!"

Dean suddenly forgot all about Hannah, and remembered that his name was in that glass bowl. He shivered.

The hand dipped swiftly in the bowl, latching onto a small slip. Something that would determine someone's life. Most likely death.

The escort cleared her throat and gave a customary smile and cleared her throat at the audience. She read out two words.

"Dean Thomas."

Dean closed his eyes slowly. First Thresh, now him. A path cleared for him, and he made his way up to the stage.

But for some reason, he didn't care so much. There was no one for him to come home to.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks to anyone who took the time to read this! This is my first fanfic, so please if you could review, that would be great.**

Chapter 2:

10: Romilda wasn't scared of the hunger games. Not at all. She knew there was next to no chance of her being reaped. I mean, she was a daughter of a victor. She had never had to take tesserae.

She lived a rich life in the victors village, not caring as other people just scraped by. She didn't have to work, go to school, she was free to do whatever she wanted.

The truth was, she was a flirt. She was now 16 and hadn't been without a boyfriend for longer than a 2 weeks since she was 13.

It didn't help that she was very pretty with long curly black hair and bright blue eyes.

Despite all this, her life was sad, without any purpose. She had no true friends.

* * *

Blaise rolled out of bed, groaning. It was too early for him. He had an afternoon job, so didn't bother to get out of bed in the mornings. Everyone left school at 13 and started work, Blaise was now 15. However, today was the day of the reapings. He had to get to the square on time. Or else he'd probably be executed. It'd happened before. It was rare, but it happened.

He had golden skin, with slanting eyes. He was average height, and well built.

He found a shirt that was relatively stink - free. It still smelt slightly of cows, but it was pretty good really.

"Morning mum," he called out.

She was his only family. He had never known his dad. He had died before he had even been born. Since then, his mum had had 6 husbands, none of them working out.

At the moment she was single.

Thank God, thought Blaise.

He sliced himself two slightly stale bits of bread for breakfast.

He sighed, thinking about the reaping. How his name was in there 28 times.

* * *

Romilda flicked her hair and smiled across at the boys section from the 16 year old girls section. About 5 boys thought she was smiling at them and blushed bright red.

She fluttered her eyelashes and looked back towards the front.

She waited impatiently for president snow's little section and the mayor's speech to finish, clicking her tongue.

Romilda tapped the girl in front of her on the shoulder. She whispered, "Hey, how many times is your name in there, 50?" The girl's eyes narrowed. Romilda continued, "I bet you get picked," cruelly. The girl shook her head and faced the front again, not quite containing her anger and fear. Romilda smirked as the escort, Gilderoy, put his hand in, flashing the audience a smile.

He opened the slip of paper, adjusted his wig and read,

"Romilda Vane!"

Romilda's mouth opened. She felt herself falling, falling, falling, and suddenly everything was black.

* * *

Blaise watched in disgust as the girl fainted. He'd heard of her. She thought she was privileged, but really, her name was in the glass ball, the same as everyone else.

Romilda was carried by Peacekeepers to the Justice Building.

Blaise's attention was brought back to Gilderoy, who was just about to draw the boy tribute.

"Please, please, please," he murmured under his breath.

"And the brave man is..." Gilderoy paused for dramatic effect, "Blaise Zabini!"

Blaise felt his heart begin to thump, and realized that he did not want to die. He needed to come home. His mother needed him. And he swore he would be there.

* * *

District 9

Lavender rubbed her hands together and blew into them, trying to unfreeze her numb hands.

Lavender was short, with long, curly, brown hair that she generally tied back with a pink ribbon that she found once. It was dirty and brown now, but she kept it, as a reminder that there was always a good side.

Today was always cold. The day of the reaping, brought cold upon all of Panem.

In each district, two families mourned their losses each year this day.

That is, except for the career districts, whose families celebrated the possible fame.

Lavender's family was poor, even for district 9.

She had 2 brothers and 3 sisters, all older than herself.

She was the pet of the family, everyone loved her.

One of her sisters and one of her brothers were still in the reaping, the rest over 18.

Despite the poorness of the family, and the need to take tesserae, none of them had ever gone to the hunger games.

They were a loving family. Although Lavender had a hard life, she was loved.

But, the possibility of getting drawn was becoming more and more likely, even though she was only 14.

* * *

Seamus smiled painfully as his mother attempted a joke to lighten the mood at the breakfast table.

Seamus had short brown hair, and was short.

When he was young, however, he had been involved in an accident with a grain machine. No one knew why, but he had been unable to speak since then.

He was now 16.

He went back to the pantry after finishing his piece of bread, to see if there was anything else to eat.

There was nothing, the cupboard was bare. He sighed.

He knew his stomach would be grumbling during the reapings.

Sometimes he wished he could get some of the grain they harvested. Surely they could spare some.

But no. There was the harshest of penalties for taking a pinch of the stuff.

Seamus felt the unfairness keenly. But he knew, there was nothing he could do.

The Capitol and President Snow were in charge of everything.

Seamus was a fighter. But he was also a realist.

* * *

Lavender finally let go of her sister as she entered the square. "It'll be okay," her sister whispered. Lavender nodded, unable to speak with fear. "You won't be picked. I promise." Lavender was soothed by her sister's gentle voice, and was suddenly overcome with fear for her sister. She seemed to read Lavender's mind, saying, "And I'm sure I'll be fine too. This is my last year."

Lavender took one last glance at her sister, but she had already headed for the 18 year old section.

She pulled her ribbon out of her hair, and twisted it around her hand for comfort.

The escort, walked up onto the stage, a smile twisting her face.

Before Lavender could realise, she was walking towards the girls bowl.

She turned towards the un-responding audience with a sickening wink, drawing her long nailed hand out of the glass bowl.

Lavender felt an awful sense of déjà vu.

"And our brave girl is …"

Lavender twisted the ribbon.

The escort opened the slip of paper with a flourish.

"Cali Brown!"

Lavender let her breath go, it wasn't her.

But then it came to her. The name registered. Her dear, favourite, older sister.

Lavender looked at her sister's face, grim resignation registering.

The escort smiled unpleasantly at Cali. "Well, come on!"

"Now, do we have any volunteers?"

Lavender was caught. She couldn't let her sister go to the games. She took a deep breath, "I volunteer," she said bravely, loudly.

* * *

Seamus felt a panic attack coming on. The reaping was halfway done. It was an unusual day so far. A girl had volunteered. That was strange in itself, but what was the most strange was that she was younger than the girl she had volunteered for. The girl called was 18, but the volunteer could have been no older than 15. Seamus felt sorry for the two girls, whose resemblance meant they were surely sisters.

But, no time to think about that, the Capitol woman was going towards the reaping bowl, putting a hand in, fingers splayed, searching for the slip that would condemn someone to an almost certain death…

"And our male tribute is …"

Seamus tried to breath normally, he had a very small chance of getting drawn.

"Seamus Finnigan!"

His chest started to seize up. He couldn't breathe. He didn't want to move, just wished the earth would swallow him up.

His legs began to move of their own accord, bringing him up to the stage, his death.

He was going to die. He was too young.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is a particularly short chapter, but I've decided I'll do the chapters district at a time, then they will be out quicker.**

**Thanks to the couple of people who reviewed, especially Ellenne, who gave me some advice.**

**But to everyone else, please give me some feedback, I'd love it.**

**Oh, and I forgot to do this in the first couple of chapters: I don't own anything here that I'm writing, except the way I rearranged the words and the plot.**

Chapter 3:

8: Hermione felt something was missing. It had always been this way. She craved to learn things, to know more of the world. But she hadn't been to school since she was 12, five years ago. In Eight, everyone finished school at 12 and began weaving.

Even when she had been at school, they hadn't really learnt much of importance, just about the war history (which Hermione found very one-sided), and about fabrics and weaving.

Hermione had few friends, she preferred to not stick out.

But she did anyway, without meaning to. She was pretty much the walking dictionary for anyone who forgot something. Since she had nothing to learn, to feed her brain, she memorized everything, every bit of learning she could do - which was unfortunately generally about fabrics. She was an only child, and pretty middle class (for District Eight, that is), and her parents were normally away from home. They both had jobs that took them away for most hours of the day.

Hermione was one of the most clever people of her age, and rather than worry about the possibility of the Hunger Games, she calculated the odds of being picked, and comforted herself with the fact that it was extremely unlikely for her to go to the Capitol.

* * *

"Wake up," whispered Colin. "Please, David, wake up!" David groaned. "Go away, Colin." Colin sighed and went into their little kitchen. He sat down on one of the little rickety, peeling chairs.

Colin adored his older brother. He followed him around all the time, craving his approval. He had a younger brother too, Dennis, who was 11. David was always pushing Colin away, annoyed by the constant attention.

Their parents were out, they always left early in the morning. They only really saw their three boys late at night, if they were still up.

Because of that, David was constantly looking after his two little brothers, and he found them really annoying. He was only 17, after all.

Colin was quite naïve and hadn't thought about the upcoming reaping. It was his first year, after all.

* * *

Hermione stepped carefully along the stones in the square. Her heart was beating fast, but she was taking deep breaths, calming herself down. In. And out.

She stood straight, amongst the other 17 year olds. She saw the usual video shown of President Snow. Then the mayor spoke. Boringly as usual.

Hermione was very aware that the moment was drawing closer. She started to hyperventilate slightly. _In, out_, she thought._ Remember?_ She said to herself._ It's very improbable that I'll go_. Another nasty voice in her head said, _but not impossible. _

And her thoughts stopped completely as the Capitol, male, district Eight escort made his way towards the bowl. Hermione's attention was focused completely on him now, following his hand's movements through the glass.

He pulled the unfortunate's name out of the bowl with a flourish, and deftly unfolded the small slip.

"Hermione Granger!"

Hermione's gasp was so soft that only the people around her heard, and they all turned around to look at her with a mixture of pity, relief, and possibly guilt.

A girl from Hermione's street, Bonnie, patted her on the arm, reassuringly as she made her way up to the stage.

Hermione made her face blank, she wouldn't look like an easy target for the other district's tributes. She held in the tears that were threatening to make their way down her face.

* * *

Colin looked around from the 12 year old section, trying to spot David amongst the 17 year old crowd, but to no avail. He couldn't see him anywhere. Actually, David had left the house really early this morning, not telling Colin or Dennis where he was going. Colin hadn't seen him since, but assumed he was in the square. He shrugged and faced forward again. The girl tribute was chosen. A girl Colin had heard of. She had a reputation for being really smart, and nice, if you needed to talk to someone.

But he didn't really care too much, he didn't know her personally.

Colin was scared for David, being 17, because his name was in the bowl several times. Colin's name was only there a couple though, so he wasn't too frightened.

"And now it is the time to pick our male tribute," said the escort happily.

Colin crossed his fingers and whispered, "Please, please not David."

The freakish man pulled a slip of paper out of the glass reaping bowl, and Colin felt the beginning of fear for himself. He dismissed it though.

"The male tribute is … Colin Creevey!"

_No, _Colin thought, _but, my name's only in there three times!_

He made his way slowly up to the stage, watched by everyone. But he foolishly didn't feel fear. For some reason, he was excited. He was going to participate in a fight to the death. But maybe, if he won, his brother would be proud of him.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm really sorry to anyone who was waiting for this. I just got stuck, and didn't want to continue. But, I finally made myself come back to the story, so now I've done District 7. **

**Thanks for reading, please review.**

* * *

District 7:

Cho Chang didn't fit in in District 7. She wasn't strong, and was unable to chop wood satisfactorily to work. Her parents often pretended she was sick, which was true in a sense.

She had panic attacks. Often she would be unable to breathe. Cho would double over, wheezing, and have to lie down. Otherwise, she would faint.

Most of District 7 had well defined muscles - especially the men. The bigger the muscles they had, the more desirable they were as possible husbands.

But Cho was slim and very little. Her parents really worried about her. At school, when she was learning, she would sometimes just keel over. Her teachers got used to it, but the other kids picked on her. "Cho!" they'd say. "Feeling dizzy?" She knew it wasn't that bad. But still, every time someone made a joke about it, her breathing would start becoming difficult. And before anyone knew it, she was on the floor. Coming to was horrible. She'd wake up and see everyone above, staring down at her, most containing laughter.

It always took her a minute or two to remember where she was.

The fact that she got out of most work just made everyone hate her even more.

Cho couldn't agree with them more. She hated herself too. She was weak, sick and stupid. Everything you shouldn't be in District 7.

* * *

Ernie MacMillan sat down at his breakfast table and took a deep breath. The surface was scratched from years of use. The table was government commissioned, so it had probably been around for at least thirty years before his family had received it.

Just like everything else their family owned.

With 4 younger brothers, Ernie's family was in the poor end of District 7. His father had to work extra-long hours felling trees, sometimes well into the night.

His mother was unable to work, having just recovered from giving birth to her latest child 3 weeks ago. She would probably go back to work in a month or so, and Ernie would be left to look after the newborn at night.

Ernie's brothers were named; Eamon, Earnest, Edgar and three-week-old Egon. Ernie hated it. No one in town remembered his name, and he barely remembered his own brother's names sometimes.

Ernie's favourite time was in school. He was clever, for a 14 year old, and he liked learning. Even if it was mostly all about trees.

From the age of twelve, Ernie had been going into the woods to help his father chop trees. When babysitting duties weren't required.

Ernie liked the physical work too; it was at least better than having to sort out four boys' troubles.

At 16, he'd leave school and work full time in the woods. His mum would probably have to stay home and look after the boys. Or, the responsibility would be handed to Eamon, he was 11 now, and capable of work in his parents' minds.

Today, Ernie was the first up, as usual. He was worried. Even though only 14, he was worried about the reaping today. His odds were not good. His name was in the ball 20 times, which was a lot. Ernie pushed this out of his mind, and made himself some pine needle tea. Today, he just needed to think positive. It would be over soon.

* * *

When it was time to go to the reaping, Cho couldn't get up. Every time she tried to stand up, she would start feeling dizzy and vomit everywhere. The floor of her room was covered in sick.

"Come on, Cho," her Mum said gently. "You need to get up. It's okay. I'll help you."

Cho gripped her mother and slowly rose out of bed.

"That's it," she said encouragingly, when Cho didn't throw up, "You can do it."

With help, Cho got dressed and ready for the reaping.

She and her parents left the house early to allow for Cho to walk slowly.

They arrived at the square just on time, and Cho almost fainted there. The only thing that kept her going was having done it once before. She was thirteen, and she'd been to one reaping.

Other kids began to arrive, and she was caught in a crowd of jostling, silent other kids. She got pushed backwards and forwards, luckily ending up in the 13 year old section.

After a few minutes, the adults around the edges stopped talking. The mayor had come up to the microphone. Then it was President Snow's message. Cho watched him with fear, resisting the temptation to close her eyes tightly.

Then, the escort. Minnie was her name. She was made up so much that you could barely see a hint of her face. Just powder and bright colours.

Cho felt dizzy. _Don't faint. Don't faint, s_he told herself. It took a while for her to resume breathing normally, and by then, Minnie was reaching inside the glass ball.

Her fingers and nails were completely visible, clawing around, trying to find a slip.

Suddenly the hand closed, the big screen filled with the image of that one hand, clasping a tiny piece of paper. Cho wished she would drop it, just to make the whole ceremony a little less predictable.

But she didn't drop it.

And Minnie was reading in a loud, silly voice. "Sho Shang!"

A little murmur went around the crowd. Who?

Minnie's head snapped up, she looked around the crowd. "Sho Shang?"

Someone yelled out. "SHE MEANS CHO CHANG!"

Cho's knees buckled. Whoever said that was lying.

"Ah, yes!" said Minnie stupidly, laughing nervously, "Um, Cho Chang!"

And everything was black as Cho sank to the ground.

* * *

Ernie watched sadly as Cho Chang was called, and then carried off by Peacekeepers out of sight. She was that sick girl at school, a year younger than him. He felt sorry for her. He knew she copped a lot from the other kids.

After Minnie's little mishap with Cho's name, she seemed determined to get this over with quickly.

"And the male tribute for District 7 … Ernie MacMillan!"

Ernie let out a breath slowly. A breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. He shook all over.

He made his way up to the stage. Up the steps. Then forward. Towards the centre of the stage. He didn't look out at everyone. Didn't want to see his parents' or brothers' expressions. Right now, he was just really tired, and wanted to wake up from this nightmare.


End file.
